


Terms and Conditions

by SenoraKitty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Verse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenoraKitty/pseuds/SenoraKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Sherlock was going to be forced to find himself an omega then he is going to do it his way, on his terms.</p><p>Fic inspired by (NSFW) <a href="http://archiaart.tumblr.com/post/75331535420/he-shook-fiercely-every-time-a-buyer-walked-too">this image</a> , and by the omegaverse concept itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Browsing the Merchandise

**Author's Note:**

> Mike takes Sherlock to an upscale omega brothel to purchase an omega for the alpha. What Sherlock finds is a rare gem indeed.

“Aw, this one has been injured.” He heard Mike say from somewhere behind him. 

He turned from his perusal to see what Mike had found, and froze at what he saw. Indeed the omega, Mike was looking at, had been injured: a 50. cal sniper bullet to the left shoulder. The white puckered, star shaped scar webbed out unevenly over tanned skin. _Entry wound,_ Sherlock noted, _so he was facing his shooter._ His eyes flickered over the rest of the omega's mostly nude body, taking in all the information. Dense compact muscle in a stout frame, tanned skin, but not as tan above the wrists or waist. Through the layers of a gossamer loin cloth Sherlock could tell he was well endowed for an omega, he could even give most betas a run for their money. Scarred stab wound to the hip, multiple less noticeable scars marred the tan skin, calluses on the hands and fingers, calm even breathing even when bound and surrounded by strangers. Sherlock realized he was facing an ex army omega, _how extraordinarily rare._

Sherlock eyed the information chart that was hanging next to the restrained omega. _Name: John H. Watson, blond hair, blue eyes..._ He turned from the chart to study the omega once more. The man was hooded and bound in place like all the others. The light thin jute rope crisscrossing intricately over his body, the design highlighting the omega's muscles and features perfectly. The hooded head was bowed and turned ever so slightly in the alpha's direction. The omega was fully aware that Sherlock was standing near him. “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

The hood jerked as the omega realized the question was aimed at him. “Wh-wha-”

Before Sherlock could reply a bell tolled at the front of the hall. Observation hour was ending. The guests were being escorted into the adjacent room, and main stage for the continuation of the auction. He took one last look at his soon to be omega, and grinned. “See you at auction.”

 

It was a silent auction, John was grateful for that. At least he wouldn't have to listen to people shouting out numbers that equaled his worth as a person. 

He took a calming breath as he was escorted onto the stage. The scent of fertile alpha was thick and heavy in the air. Distantly John's mind drifted to the unknown alpha who spoke to him, and asked the most peculiar question. That alpha was here somewhere, and he couldn't stop himself from scanning the crowd out of the corner of his eye as he walked. It wasn't a big crowd, but he felt their eyes on him, scrutinizing every visible part of his body, taking in every flaw. Even so he couldn't help but feel like a piece of prime cut being dangled in front of a pack of wolves. He pursed his lips, trying to ignore bustle of hushed whispers that broke out as he took center stage.

Sherlock sat a little straighter in his seat as he caught sight of the stout blond taking the stage. He knew it was his omega the instant he saw him, and the stark white scar of the bullet wound only confirmed this. Apparently others around him noticed the blemish as well as people began to voice their disdain at being presented with a less than immaculate omega.

“...Likely shot while trying to escape it's alpha,” he heard someone from the crowd whisper. Fools, the whole lot of them. They had no idea what they were looking at. This man before them may be an omega, but he had never been anyone's property, least of all an alpha's.

As the auctioneer introduced him, the omega on stage straightened to his full height and placed his arms behind his back in parade rest. Sherlock took the action for what it was, this omega was presenting himself to the crowd, showing off his best qualities.

“Full of pride that one. You'd be better off trying to tame a wild animal,” another voice from the crowd mumbled. 

Sherlock bit back a growl. “Idiot,” he hissed under his breath.

Mike looked up from his pamphlets at Sherlock's remark. The beta looked around to see if there was someone agitating the alpha, but noted that no one was speaking to them. Leaning in slightly he inquired if there was a problem.

“No,” Sherlock drawled keeping his eyes fixed on the figure atop the stage. He couldn't wait for the bidding to get started so that he could purchase this omega and get out of there.

John flexed his fist nervously behind his back as the bidding got underway. An uneasy silence fell over the crowd as the first price was announced, and John's stomach sank as he realized that no one intended to bid on him. He wondered where the man with the smooth velvety voice was. Was he still here? Had he already won an auction and left? Disheartened, John's eyes fell to the worn polished wood of the stage, he was suddenly unable to face the crowd. This was worse then being put down by a drill sergeant in boot camp. 

The auctioneer's voice broke the silence as he called out to a gentleman making a bid, and John's eyes shot up. He eagerly looked around to see who had placed the bid. Was it the man who spoke to him before? Hope began to swell inside him even as a small bidding war broke out in the audience. He tried to see who was placing the bids, but he couldn't make out who was holding up their paddles, and it was impossible to tell if any of these alphas where the one he wanted.

Eventually the bidding dwindled between two alphas, neither of which John could make out. It was a tight race, and the auctioneer called for one last bid to be made. At the last second a paddle shot into the air.

“Sold!” The auctioneer jovially called out, and slammed down his gavel in an act of finality. The audience clapped and buzzed with excitement.

John saw the numbered paddle go up out of the corner of his eye, but by the time he was able to focus in that exact location the paddle had been taken down. He never got to see who had purchased him. In a daze he was lead off stage, and taken back to his room within the brothel. 

As he got cleaned up and dressed he mentally prepared himself to meet his new alpha. Other omegas packed his belongings, and cleaned his room for it's next occupant.

John had only lived there a short time so he had very little in the way of trappings, and within an hour he was on his way out the front door of the upscale brothel. As he bounded down the steps a cab pulled up, and the driver stepped out.

“Your cab, sir.”

Sir? John hadn't been called sir for quite some time, not even out of casual respect. It gave him a slightly energizing feeling as he stepped to the boot of the car to put his luggage in.

The cabbie stopped him half way by stating, “I got your things, sir. You can go ahead and get in the back.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.” He stammered slightly, almost mistakenly saluting the cabbie, before he turned to get into the back seat of the cab with a tall, posh looking alpha. He couldn't hold back his surprise, the alpha was shockingly handsome with a thick head of chocolate brown hair, high cheek bones, sharp pale eyes, and elegant features. Settling down in the seat he looked around wondering if there had been a mistake. Surely this hadn't been the alpha who had purchased him, and even if he had there was no way this man was the same one from before.

“So which is it,” the alpha drawled, his crystal clear eyes gazing over to John's face. “Afghanistan or Iraq?”


	2. Try Before You Buy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock lays down the law, and John is stuck in constant bewilderment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is taking so long, and that it's not much. I'm an artist first and a writer second, and I'm not that great of a writer. However, I am doing a darn good job at trying and that's what counts.

John stared, dumbfounded. He instantly recognized that deep rich voice, and couldn't hold back a nervous laugh. “Afghanistan, but how did you...?”

“I simply observed,” the alpha answered, a smirk tugging at the side of his full lips.

“How?”

“First there is the case of your wounds: bullet wound to the shoulder, high caliber, entry wound in front, shot through and through. Rarely would a civilian come to possess such a wound- so military. Then there is your tan skin and sun bleached hair. There are very few places a soldier can receive such a complexion these days- Afghanistan or Iraq.”

John slowly released the breath he was holding. “That was...fantastic!”

The alpha didn't seem to be expecting the omega's complement. His eyes slowly shifting as he appeared at a loss for words. Tentatively he asked, “you think so?”

“Yeah,” John smiled brightly to the alpha, he was still in awe of the man's observation. 

The alpha leaned into his seat as silence quickly fell between the two of them. As the cab made it's way into the heart of London he could sense the omega's eyes on him. “Alright, you have questions.”

John bit his lip, thinking about what he should ask. “Well you know about me, but what about you? What is your name? Do you have any hobbies? I mean, what do you do?”

“My name is Sherlock Homes, I am a consulting detective, I play the violin at all hours, and sometimes I don't talk for days.”

Now wearing on his lower lip, John took in what man had said. It wasn't much, but it was clearly all the alpha was willing to offer. “John- John Watson,” he beamed and offered his hand to the alpha in greeting.

Sherlock's glacial blue eyes flickered over John, before he answered in a bored tone, “yes, I know. I read your chart.”

Realizing that the alpha was not going to shake hands John slowly withdrew his. He settled back, not quite sure what he had gotten himself into. What kind of man did the brothel sell him to? He mulled over the small bit of information he had about this alpha, but dared not ask any more questions. They road along to their destination, a building in the dead center of Baker Street.

 

John leaned heavily on his cane as he took in the hap-hazard state of the flat. “This is nice,” and it was. Other then the clutter of random nicknacks, and mountains of books and papers that littered the living space, the flat looked warm, and welcoming.

Without a word Sherlock discarded his scarf and coat, hanging them on a peg by the door. He left his new omega standing in the threshold allowing the man take in the space that was to be his new residence. He sauntered into the living room, to one of the two chairs there, and took his seat. Pressing his hands together under his chin, Sherlock silently studied John, letting his eyes rove over his body as the man took a few more tentative steps into the room.

After a moment of mutual observation he broke the silence. “You should know that I have no intention to bond or breed with you, in fact we should get you some contraceptive as soon as possible. I would suggest a suppressant, but heats become irregular with those, and we don't need you out somewhere randomly going into estrus. Don't get me wrong, I fully intend to take care of you during your heats, given I am not on a case, and if I am on a case I suggest you work something out before the condition onsets.” 

John shifted in place, he had hoped for a bit longer of a getting to know you phase before the two of them talked about this. On the other hand he supposed it was best that they get things settled and out of the way before too much time passed.

Seeing that John was not going to object Sherlock continued. “Your chart said that your next heat would be in three weeks, which is plenty of time for you to get settled. You can take the bed room upstairs-”

The omega's head shot up at that. This time John did interrupt the alpha. “Upstairs? But I thought...didn't you just say you were going to 'take care of me' during my heats?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, “that I did, but sharing a bed is not a requirement. Besides I would think you'd be pleased to have your own room and bed.”

It dawned on John then just how needy he might have come off a moment ago, and he mentally chastised himself for it. He most definitely was not desperate, and it wasn't that he was ungrateful. It simply was not what he had expected from an alpha whom, just hours before, had purchased him from a brothel. 

Generally alphas were possessive, and controlling of their omegas. Often times an alpha would be demanding closeness from the very start of a relationship. In extreme cases alphas would lock an omega in a room, making them completely dependent on the alpha for even the most basic of necessities. While Sherlock certainly didn't seem the type, John at least expected some signs of possessiveness. 

So far Sherlock seemed a bit of an anomaly, he appeared fully in control of his biology. Even with the way he was interacting with John now, the alpha seemed to be offering more of a flat share than a relationship. John was silently grateful for that. After all he had been a fully independent omega for years before Sherlock won him at the auction.

Sherlock watched John's face as the omega processed the type of situation he was in. “You're free to do what you want with your time, but keep in mind, John, to everyone outside this building I own you for the next few months.”

John nodded, he knew the rules of newly purchased omegas, they were on a sort of probationary period. If they proved themselves to their alphas after the allotted time the alpha could make the choice whether or not to keep them.

During this time there were rules for both the alpha and omega to follow. An omega could not run away from their alpha. Any attempt to do so, and the omega would immediately be sent back to the brothel, no questions asked, and a full refund would be offered to the alpha. In turn alphas could not bond with their omegas until the probation was up. No bonded or impregnated omegas were ever taken back by any respectable brothel. It was far too easy for an alpha to scam a brothel otherwise. Purchase an omega under the pretense of keeping them, bond with them in a heat when they are at their most vulnerable, and send them back for a refund. It was a practice as old as trading and prostitution itself.

“If you're worried about me running away, or making a bad impression on others-”

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively, “like I have a care for what others think, and I know you won't run. You're a man of honor, and high morals, who keeps his word. I simply don't want you distracting me from my work, or getting in the way.”

John appeared to contemplate that for a moment, leaning heavily on his cane. It wasn't an unreasonable request, quite a simple one in fact. However it brought to mind something that was starting to bother him. From the very moment they met Sherlock appeared to be an alpha that had no desire to be with an omega, ever. If that were true then what exactly was he even doing there? Before John was able to form a question Sherlock's voice broke through his thoughts.

“You should probably go upstairs and start unpacking.”

John pursed his lips and shuffled, looking from his belongings to the stairs. “Right, will that be all?”

The alpha glanced around, appearing confused by John's words. “Will what be all?”

“Any more rules for me to follow? Orders?” John wasn't meaning to come off as agitated as he appeared, he simply wanted to know where he stood with the alpha.

Sherlock tilted his head slightly, his steely eyes narrowing in contemplation. “No,” he drawled, studying the omega. 

 

John awkwardly lugged his belongings up the stairs finding it difficult to juggle both his case and his cane. Sherlock was obviously not going to help, but instead left the inabled omega to do for himself. Reaching the top of the stairs John swung the door open, and was delighted to find the room clear of the clutter that blanketed the rest of the flat.

The room was sparsely furnished with a single bed, chair, dresser, and night stand with a lamp atop it. The items, possibly left by a previous tenant, made the space feel stoic and organized. For a man who had spent years in dorms, and tents it was a familiar feeling, and John welcomed it.

With a smile on his face, John set about unpacking his belongings. He rearranged the room a bit to make the space more his, and was about to get comfortable when he heard voices from downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's crap, I'm crap. *texts LAZARUS and jumps off a roof*


	3. Witness Signature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is happy with Sherlock and John's new arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. Sorry! Darn that life, and it's ability to get in the way of creativity.

John moved closer to the door to hear what was going on below. The two voices were arguing, no, Sherlock was arguing. The other person was replying in docile tones, and John found himself straining to hear what they were saying. He recognized Sherlock's voice, but who was the other man? Quietly John began descending the stairs.

 

“If I had known you'd stoop so low as to acquire an omega from a brothel I'd have introduced you to some of my colleagues. There are plenty of well to do omegas in government positions.”

Sherlock couldn't have been more delighted with how well the gamble at the brothel turned out. John Watson was a miraculous find in his opinion, and he intended to revel in his accomplishment for days. This impromptu visit from Mycroft, however was greatly spoiling his good mood.

He detested the very presence of his brother. It was such a shame that he had not gotten to the door before Mrs. Hudson let the pompous man in. 

The very thought of his brother manipulating 'the mate situation' any further churned his stomach. “And have them spy on me for you for the rest of my life? Not a chance.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes having long since been put up with the accusations that he is interfering in his younger brother's life. “I'm serious, Sherlock, what am I to tell Mummy? You know she has certain standards.”

“If I remember correctly, it was because of you that mother began hounding me about a mate in the first place.” Sherlock shot his brother a knowing glare, and with cruel satisfaction he watched Mycroft avert his gaze. His brother would not dare counter him on that fact. “You began cutting her off at every turn, hiding behind your _position_ to deter her from pressing the issue with you. She had no choice but to turn to her other son.” 

He would have been thoroughly pleased with himself at shaming his brother, but it would do nothing to change their situation. With a defeated sigh he placed his hands on his hips, and stared at the skull atop the mantle of the fire place. “The truth is neither one of us is suited for domestic life.”

“Yes, that we both can agree on at least.” Sherlock's brother agreed in a rare occurrence. It seemed as if the two of them were about to have a casual conversation, but Mycroft clearly was not comfortable with the idea. 

His nose twitched in disgust. “A brothel though, Sherlock, honestly what were you thinking?” Mycroft's words slowly faded as he heard someone approaching from the bedroom above. He shifted to see just who it was, and his eyes widened slightly as they caught on the omega descending the stairs.

John looked from the new person to his flat-mate. “Sherlock? Everything okay?” His eyes took in this newcomer's appearance, noting the posh suit, and umbrella tucked under one arm. The look of the man alone screamed alpha, and sure enough John could make out the distinct scent of alpha pheromones mingling with Sherlock's own. He realized that the two alphas smell similar, and his brain supplied him with the scene that they were related. Sherlock confirmed John's thoughts with his next words. 

“Yes, my brother was just stopping by to congratulate me.” He made no effort to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“Oh, well then,” John hobbled into the flat, having left his cane up in his room. He offered his hand to Sherlock's brother, cheerfully greeting him. “Hello, the name's John Watson.”

“Mycroft Holmes.” Mycroft shook the offered hand, and threw the omega a delighted smile, to which Sherlock rolled his eyes in a dramatic display of disgust.

Sherlock interjected before his brother was able to deduce too much about his new flat-mate. “Mycroft was on his way out,” he announced to no one in particular.

John caught it then, the tone in Sherlock's voice telling him that there was clear animosity between the two brothers. “Oh, I'll see you to the door then. Shall we?” 

Ever the courteous host, John walked their guest down the stairs, and to the front door. He was grateful that Mycroft was the type not to make a scene. Instead the elder brother silently followed the omega out.

Mycroft eyed the ex-army omega up and down as he stepped out the door. “You're very brave to be so trusting so quickly.”

Taken aback by the observation John shifted, straightening his posture. Instinct was telling him not to let down his guard around this man. “Yeah well-”

Mycroft continued, ignoring John's artless attempt to explain himself. “Unfortunately brave is just another word for stupid.” He waited to see just how this omega would handle the barb.

With a dark grin and a “good night,” John slammed the door in Mycroft's face. Relative or not he was not going to put up with being insulted, and threatened by a guest in his own home. As he turned to head back upstairs he froze spotting Sherlock watching him from atop the landing.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing, just showing your brother the door,” John admitted with a false innocent smile on his face.

Sherlock glanced from the door back to the omega. “Yes, I'd say he got a rather close up look at the new paint job.”

John's innocent facade cracked and he broke into a fit of laughter. He knew what he had done was rude, but for him it was tit for tat in that department. Before he knew it there was a dark rumbling chuckle joining his chorus of snickers, and giggles. Sherlock had apparently found the situation just as humorous as John did. The omega snorted, and covered his mouth trying to stifle his laughter.

Sherlock cleared his throat, but was still unable to keep a hint of a smile off his face. “Tea?”

“Love some.”

 

 

Of course by tea Sherlock meant that John would be making tea for both of them. Once the tea was served John and Sherlock sat comfortably in the adjacent chairs in front of the fire place.

“How much did you bid on me anyway,” John asked over the steaming cup he cradled in his hands. The question had been rolling around his mind ever since he was sold.

Sherlock took a sip and sat his cup aside. “Not as much as I would have liked.”

John's eyes went wide at that. “You wanted to pay more?”

“Why not? You saw how my brother reacted when he found out I had procured an omega from a brothel, just imagine the look on his face if he discovered I had spent half the family fortune on you.”

John sputtered and laughed, not just at the image Sherlock's words conjured, but at the man admitting spending a fortune on him. “Really? You would have spent that much money just to buy me?”

Sherlock shrugged, “I suppose we'll never know, will we?” He relaxed back into his plush leather chair looking quite pleased with himself. “Lucky for us most of those imbeciles had no idea about your service. In fact the man I was bidding against was only paying attention to your physique. It's more than likely he would have used you for some sort of labor work.”

Pausing with the cup to his mouth John's brow furrowed. “What makes you so sure?”

“He clearly already had an omega he was bonded to, so he wouldn't be needing you for breeding purposes. Not unless he was greedy, which would be a possibility, but no. While he dressed smart his clothes were older. There were small stains here and there on his dress shirt and jacket. So they hadn't been cleaned properly. Trying to save on spending money by skipping the dry-cleaners. Also he wore very little in the way of accessories. Likely he was down on his luck, company not doing so well. He needed the cheap labor, and thought he could purchase an omega rather than paying an alpha or beta a salary.” Sherlock scoffed at the very idea of using an omega in such a way. It would have been a waste of potential, especially if it had been an ex-army omega like John Watson.

John sat, dumbfounded by Sherlock's elaborate tirade. “Incredible,” he breathed in awe, not only at Sherlock's deductions, but at what could possibly become his life with this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news is most of that was already typed up. I just had to proof read and edit it a bit.
> 
> Next chapter there will be a bit of smut, but I make no promises.


	4. Test Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes into his first heat with Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took forever but I really had to take the time to get my thoughts together. Real life is such a drag on creativity.

John took a deep cleansing breath as another wave of pain rolled through his guts. Slowly releasing the breath, he took another sip of his tea, hoping it would help relax his muscles. He knew that the intensity of his heats would fluctuate now that he was permanently off his military grade suppressant. He just wasn't expecting the unpleasant symptoms to increase as well.

While on his suppressant John didn't go into heat, which was why omegas were allowed into the military now a days. He could, and did, have sex whenever the mood struck, but it was nothing like the rough and tumble of alphas and omegas during a heat. If he were truly honest with himself, he actually missed the primal coupling with an alpha.

Decades had passed between John's last heat and the one coming on. His body was no longer acclimated to having heats, which was making tolerating this one difficult. 

John had enlisted into the army once he passed his medical exams at St. Bards. As soon as he cleared his physical with the RAMC he was given a prescription for suppressants, that he would take throughout his military career.

The three months after his invalidation he managed to scrape by with money from his pension. However, it was obvious that he had to do something to make money soon or he'd find himself out on the street, or in a shelter for homeless veterans. He considered working in hospital, but London hospitals were almost always fully staffed with surgeons. Not even a local clinic would be willing to take him on, as patients of all kinds walked through their doors on a daily basis. An unbound omega was a liability no surgery would be willing to take on. He would have to go on suppressants again which, at the time, he could not afford.

It was his superior, Major Sholto, who convinced John to consider finding himself someone to move in with. It was a good idea, but John found himself at a loss. Dating was not on his list of priorities, and who would want to room with war torn omega with physical and mental issues? He could not very well move in with just anyone, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't be kicked out if he and his housemate did not get along.

He brought his concerns to Sholto, and that was when the alpha superior brought up brothels and a particular service they offered. John decided not to ask how the alpha had known about the inner workings of high end brothels. Instead he decided to inquire more about them. 

It took a lot of back and forth over internet communications, research, Sholto putting in a good word for him, meeting and talking with the brothel owners, but eventually John was willing to try. He didn't have much of a choice, and no matter how he felt about the idea of selling himself the option had the best outlook.

A week later he had moved out of his stoic bedsit, and into a nicely sized room in the confines of the brothel. It was not at all how John had pictured it. The property was spacious, omegas were allowed to move around as they pleased, the meals were at the same time every day, and there were places for exercise and socializing. It felt like a resort rather than a place that sold flesh. John appreciated the sense of routine the brothel offered, but he knew it was only temporary. 

One week later he was set for auction, and purchased by one Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.

John soon found himself being swept away on cases for the New Scotland Yard. Being called in to assist the consulting detective as best he could. John was grateful for Sherlock making him feel useful again. It was as if he had found his place in society, but he could not shake the feeling that he was grossly inadequate compared to the detective's skills.

The man was simply astonishing with his deductions; able to see the bigger picture even when he was looking at only one piece to the puzzle. He could see past everyone and everything. People were an open book to him unless it came to their emotions. It never seceded to amaze John.

“John.” Sherlock's voice growled. It wasn't the irate tone of Sherlock's voice as much as it was the dark rumble of an alpha that startled him from his thoughts. John's head shot up, looking to Sherlock who was typing on his phone. 

Without pausing, Sherlock continued seemingly not noticing or caring if he had the omega's attention. “Put your tea down and go lie down in my room. You have done nothing but fidget for the last half hour, and between your squirming and the smell it's impossible for me to concentrate.”

John could feel the flush burning in his ears. Of course Sherlock would know that he was going into heat, the genius probably knew before John did. Stammering he set his tea on the side table and went to Sherlock's bed room.

The thick scent of alpha clouded the air. It was a double edged sword to John's current state. Instead of feeling awkward at his first time having been in Sherlock's room he felt comforted by the presence of his soon to be mate. At the same time a virile alpha permeating the air with his lingering scent was increasing the symptoms of John's heat.

Biting back a whimper John discarded his abrasive jumper, and button up. His too tight pants and jeans were next to join the pile on the floor. John slid into the luscious bed, wrapping himself in the thickly scented covers, and fought the urge to rub himself all over the mattress.

The incoherent stages of estrus had kicked in, and it took every last bit of John's conscious mind to wait for Sherlock to join him. Thank heaven the alpha did not leave him waiting for very long.

Minutes later the tall darkly clad alpha sauntered into the room, catching John resting above the covers a pool of lubricant darkening the duvet under him. Those cool sea glass colored eyes pinned John to the spot as Sherlock stalked around the the foot of his bed.

Likewise John's fathomless blue eyes followed the alpha as the man languidly unbuttoned his blazer, and undershirt. Sherlock moved as if he had all the time in the world.

John trembled in anticipation of what was soon to come.

 

Sex with Sherlock Holmes certainly wasn't what John had expected it to be. There was very little in the way of communication, or pleasure. Sure he had climaxed many times throughout the heat, but each time he was surprisingly unfulfilled.

Sherlock would routinely come in to the room when John got restless. He would mount him, and rut until they both came, but as soon as his knot went down he was up and gone again.

Sherlock executed far more control than John thought was humanly possible, and they almost always did it from behind. John never had a problem with the position, but it was bizarre for a first heat with a new alpha. It left John wondering if Sherlock had ever been with an omega before, or if it was something more personal. 

While alphas generally liked to be the center of their omega's world during their first heats together, Sherlock simply seemed content with getting John off so that he could go back to his experiments. It was as if their couplings were a burden, a chore that needed to be done and gotten out of the way.

John was contemplative, should he tell Sherlock about his displeasure in bed? He knew from past experience with friends that directly approaching a sexual issue was not the best strategy. It always left the other party feeling inadequate, or undesirable. Sexual egos were always such fragile things. 

While John hoped Sherlock was above that, he didn't want to risk one of the alpha's notoriously long sulks. He decided that he would have to wait for a chance to confront the issue indirectly.

Lucky for John, he would be granted with an opportunity soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for there being no smut in this chapter. When I thought about it I really did not want to go into detail about how inexperienced Sherlock is when it comes to sex. Sure he knows the physics and technicalities of it, and that is what he knows to work off of. Not so much enjoying the act or pleasing one's partner.
> 
> Sorry if anyone was expecting an extravagant explanation as to why John was at the brothel, but it really just came down to money troubles, and being down on his luck.


End file.
